A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 65: A Chuunibyou Girl

Only the princess, Katarina, murmured pitifully by his side, entirely oblivious to the tension.

“Haha, Your Highness. I believe my butler seems to have misunderstood something.”

“T-Then what is this, exactly?”

“Well, it’s nothing more than a simple blessing I’ve placed on those around me.”

“...A blessing?”

Whitney, glancing at the princess from the corner of his eye, gave a gentle smile and began his explanation. Katarina blinked in surprise.

“Yes. Think of it as a kind of protective charm, like what white mages cast on their allies.”

“If... if that’s all it is, then I suppose I can be relieved...”

The princess glanced sideways at Whitney again and spoke hesitantly.

“...Still, I’d prefer if it weren’t quite so visible all the time.”

To be fair, the mark sitting squarely on her abdomen did look like it could cause quite a few misunderstandings.

“Hmm, would you normally be showing your stomach to anyone?”

“No, but... you never know with people.”

“You’ve done a pretty good job hiding everything else so far, though.”

“...Ah.”

But as soon as Whitney referenced her biggest secret, the princess’s half-hearted protest was immediately cut short.

“Fine... I’ll wrap it with bandages or something and hide it. Just... please, keep that secret safe...”

“Haha. Don’t say it like that.”

Then, with the same smile he’d shown Parsha, Whitney leaned closer and whispered softly to the princess.

“If someone saw us, they might think I’m threatening Your Highness or something.”

“Hiiik.”

“It might look a bit odd, but this is... a symbol of our friendship, right?”

A very one-sided symbol, if anything—but the princess forced a nod and a smile, having no choice in the matter.

— Voooom...

She desperately wanted to say something about Whitney’s wording, but every time she did, a strange heat flared up near her abdomen, making her give up.

“Th-Thank you... I’ll treasure it...”

“Ahahaha...”

“A-Anyway. Now that my curiosity is satisfied, I’ll be going...”

Of course, she couldn’t exactly ask about the reason behind it to Whitney’s face—not with that terrifying expression. Rubbing her stomach and flinching, the princess waved quickly and backed away.

“Yes, well... see you next time.”

“Hmph.”

“I’ll see the rest of you back at the mansion.”

Whitney, sensing the irritated aura of Meredia waiting in the carriage, ended the conversation there.

“Well then, I’ll be off...”

Turning around, Whitney wore a slightly conflicted expression as he opened the carriage door.

“Oh.”

And in that moment, he understood the real reason behind Meredia’s foul mood.

“O-Onii-sama...”

“...Cecil?”

Beside Meredia, who had turned her face away and was staring coldly out the window, Cecil sat fidgeting with her fingers—her cheeks puffed out in a pout.

***

— Clatter, clatter...

Whitney was clearly flustered by his sister’s unexpected appearance, but regardless, the carriage quickly departed from the Academy.

“Ah! Wait! Please, just a moment...!”

But someone shouted urgently from near the Academy gates, watching the carriage disappear into the distance.

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

“I just... I just wanted to say goodbye, at least...!”

That girl’s name was none other than Adel Felgrave.

Ever since the Selection Tournament had fizzled out, she’d been trying nonstop to meet with Whitney—but thanks to having fallen out of Meredia’s favor, every request had been denied.

Even so, she’d testified on Whitney’s behalf without hesitation, and now, on the day he was leaving, she had waited in hopes of saying goodbye.

“...You may leave now.”

“You sons of—”

“We’re just following Lady Meredia’s orders, so please don’t take it personally.”

But in the end, she was blocked by the guards under Meredia’s command, and her wish went unfulfilled.

“......”

Once Whitney’s carriage was fully out of sight, the guards silently disappeared.

“...I stayed up all night making this...”

In the silence that followed, Adel, wearing a vacant expression, let the packet of cookies she’d been holding fall from her arms.

“...Ugh... hngh...”

Her body trembled slightly as tears began to slip from her eyes.

“I... I could’ve done better...”

If this were a typical romance novel, the proud noblewoman’s first love would have ended here—etched into memory as nothing but a painful regret.

“Hmm. Is that so?”

“...Huh?”

But just before that fate could come to pass, someone who had been observing her from the shadows stepped forward.

“That thing you just said... were you serious?”

“W-Who are you?”

“I’m... Whitney’s butler. My name is Parsha.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

It was none other than Parsha, beaming brightly as her eyes gleamed with interest.

“And... right now, I’m in the middle of forming a secret organization to support my master behind the scenes.”

“...What?”

“Our master is perfect in every way. But there’s just one thing—he doesn’t have enough talent under his command.”

Adel, naturally, took a few steps back, her expression frozen in bewilderment at Parsha’s sudden appearance. But Parsha carried on the conversation with a calm and nonchalant expression.

“And... if you ask me, you seem like a perfect fit for the role.”

“F-For what...?”

“Specifically, the field commander of a newly formed secret organization.”

At those words, Adel stopped backing away and opened her mouth warily, her face full of suspicion.

“I-I mean... you expect me to trust a kid I’ve never met before...?”

“Hmm. That’s the one thing I hate hearing most. Which is why I carry this around these days.”

Parsha frowned slightly and handed her something. Adel, seeing the business card bearing the Ringaarden family’s crest, had no choice but to lower her guard.

“So... you’re seriously trying to scout me into this organization?”

“Yes, you’ve understood perfectly!”

“Ah, but... I’m not sure it matters anymore.”

Just as she was getting worked up and confirming things, Adel’s expression drooped again.

“The truth is... I’ve fallen out of Lady Meredia’s favor.”

“.......”

“If someone like me joins this kind of organization... wouldn’t that just cause trouble for Lord Whitney...?”

Parsha’s eyes curved even more satisfyingly at those words, but Adel, head lowered in a murmur, didn’t notice.

“I don’t even know if he remembers me...”

“Looks like you haven’t noticed yet, have you?”

“Eeek?”

Parsha had listened silently until then, but suddenly grabbed Adel’s hand and gently turned her around, making her flinch and widen her eyes.

“Take a good look.”

“T-That’s just... a mark from when I burned myself baking cookies yesterday...”

“Nope. That, right there—that’s a mark of glory.”

To be fair, even to Parsha, it looked exactly like a burn mark. But she was someone who would willingly tell a noble lie for Whitney and his cause.

“That mark is undeniable proof that you’ve been chosen by Lord Whitney...”

“W-Why would I—...ah.”

Adel tried to shake her head and deny it, vividly remembering how she’d teared up when she burned her hand yesterday—but her voice caught in her throat.

“...What do you think?”

Instead of answering, Parsha pulled aside her own collar slightly, revealing the faint shimmer of a gray mark on her shoulder.

“For the record, those two behind me also received Lord Whitney’s blessing.”

“......!”

“The dumb-looking knight got his on the heart. The cute maid? Hers is on her back. If you don’t believe me, you can check for yourself.”

As Parsha leaned in to whisper into her ear, Adel, still staring blankly, began to tremble.

“Aaah...”

The fact that the mark on her hand wasn’t actually the sign of one of Whitney’s officers was almost beside the point. There was a bigger issue.

Because inscribing a mana-imbued mark onto another person’s body without consent was, under Imperial law, considered equivalent to practicing black magic—a serious crime.

But Adel, now overtaken by the romantic fantasy that her first love had left a mark on her—was no longer capable of rational thought.

‘...Isn’t this... just like when the male lead, trapped by a villainess, leaves a token for the heroine...?’

The fact that her only hobby, hidden from her father and the judgmental stares of others, was secretly reading cheap romance novels stolen from the maids, only helped push her even further into delusion.

“I’m planning to consolidate the power Lord Whitney built up at the Academy before returning to the mansion...”

“.......”

“For example... Commoner Assembly Chair Pierre. Or the three third-year students who were locked up by black mages.”

As Adel’s expression turned dazed, Parsha calmly smiled and went in for the kill.

“Would you be willing to cooperate, Lady Adel Felgrave?”

“I... I...”

“...If you do, there’s one thing I can promise you.”

And it was a promise that, for Adel, was impossible to refuse.

“In the future, the field commander of Lord Whitney’s personal guard will be you. No matter what.”

“...Commander...”

“Your talents are far too valuable to be shackled to House Felgrave. But beside our master, you’ll be able to shine even brighter...”

Even setting aside the impact Whitney had on her heart, the truth was undeniable.

She had failed to follow her father’s orders. She hadn’t stood out during the now-collapsed Selection Tournament. If she graduated like this, she’d simply become another pawn of her family.

And the thought of being married off as some nobleman’s political bargaining chip? Unbearable.

“...All right.”

So, after closing her eyes and thinking for a few seconds, Adel finally answered in a trembling voice—the answer Parsha had been waiting for.

“What do I need to do from now on?”

And at that very moment, the burn mark on her hand suddenly turned a deep, dark gray.

“Haa...”

Parsha, stunned for once, blinked blankly before shivering and murmuring in a low voice.

“...No matter how far I fly, I’m still in the palm of my master’s hand.”

Of course, if Whitney—currently stuck inside the carriage trying to navigate the awkward tension between Meredia and Cecil—had heard that, he’d be tilting his head in confusion.

‘...Yes. This is exactly why I chose him as my master.’

Regardless, the wheel of fate was already spinning, far beyond his control.

“Ahaha, ahahahaha...!”

And so, a moment that marked the birth of a future royal guard—who would one day interpret every single word Whitney said as prophecy and shake the world—was quietly set into motion at the Academy, with the man himself none the wiser.

***

Meanwhile, at that same time...

A grand, old castle nestled in the Empire’s outskirts, exuding an aura of antiquity.

“Fufu... At last, the clock of destiny has begun to turn.”

A girl with an eyepatch and fluttering cape stood atop the tower, speaking softly to herself with an ominous smile.

“If the Hero of Light has awakened, then surely... the Dark Lord bound by fate must have descended upon this world as well.”

As soon as she finished her words, murmurs rose from the people standing behind her.

“How ironic, isn’t it? That the chosen Hero would be a child of darkness like us.”

“Still, we cannot trust the judgment of that hypocritical Holy Nation. We must pierce his soul with our own cursed eyes.”

“But... will he truly be able to withstand the trials of despair we’ve prepared?”

“Ahem. Loyal subordinates. That’s for me to decide.”

The girl, who had cleared her throat unnecessarily mid-whisper, now extended her hand with sparkling eyes and raised her voice.

“Messenger of Darkness! Take this sealed letter, imbued with my will, and deliver it! Tell the Chosen Hero of his destiny!”

Silence followed.

“...Sigh.”

From the back of the group, one maid spoke up with a tired face.

“So... you just want me to send a carrier pigeon to Lord Whitney?”

“What?”

“Huh?”

At once, everyone turned to stare at her. Eyes squeezed shut, the maid quickly rephrased.

“I-I mean! Deliver the fated missive... the dark sealed letter... to the Chosen Hero!”

“Yes, yes. Much better.”

“Sounds far more dramatic.”

“...Right. I’ll be off, then.”

With the tension lifted, the maid quickly turned around and headed for the pigeon loft, muttering under her breath with «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» a vacant expression.

“Are they white mages or damn toddlers... Seriously, what the hell...”

And not long after, from the headquarters of the white magic alliance—Lumen Ordo—a well-trained carrier pigeon took flight, destined to deliver that letter to the only halfway-sane white mage remaining.